


Dutch Courage

by perdiccas



Series: Dutch Courage [1]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Road Trip, Zane!Sylar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-12
Updated: 2008-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdiccas/pseuds/perdiccas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mohinder and Zane's first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dutch Courage

The motel room was dank and cold. Unsettling mildew stains marked the walls, the ceiling and a patch of carpet near the bathroom that Mohinder was careful to give a wide berth. The heating seemed to be set just warm enough to ensure he didn’t perish in the night but hardly high enough to be considered comfortable. He eyed the unpleasant looking comforter. It was threadbare and faded, with a limp feather escaping from a small tear at the bottom corner. He decided he’d rather be cold for now.

The silence in the room was suffocating, and Mohinder turned on the TV loud enough to annoy those in the adjoining rooms as he unpacked his bag. He found himself tuning out the canned laughter and the raucous audience, a strange emptiness settling in his chest as he moved about the room. He realised that as much as he thought he had been looking forward to some time alone, he was in fact already missing the sound of Zane’s voice, his infectious laughter and his constant companionship.

Mohinder wasn’t usually quick to make friends, feeling even more cautious and closed off since Eden’s death, but Zane had managed to win his trust in a matter of hours and now he was at a loss with what to do with himself, alone for the evening. The long drive had left his head feeling heavy and he knew he was in no condition to get any serious work done. Still, he didn’t feel nearly tired enough to brave the stained sheets and get some sleep.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He found Zane hopping from foot to foot on the threshold, trying to keep away the cold. He was bathed in the warm, pink glow of the flickering overhead lights and when Mohinder opened the door, he ducked his head and flashed a goofy grin that vanquished the emptiness, the loneliness and the hollow feeling from Mohinder’s chest. He held up his hands by way of explanation: clinking in one were a selection of miniature liquor bottles and in the other a six pack of soda. ‘I’m not disturbing you, am I? It’s no fun drinking alone.’

Mohinder just smiled brightly and stepped aside to let him enter. Zane stopped stock still just two steps into the room and looked around with his mouth agape. ‘Five minutes ago, I would have said it was impossible, but… your room is even more disgusting than mine!’

‘It’s not the greatest of establishments, is it?’ Mohinder laughed as he spoke. Somehow the dinginess of the room and the shabby disrepair of everything in it no longer bothered him. He watched Zane’s back as he sauntered over to the small sideboard. He recognised the heat that seemed to warm his body from the inside out, leaving his fingers tingling and his skin feeling too tight, as something he hadn’t felt for another man in a long time.

Mohinder shook himself before Zane could catch him staring, feeling almost certain the other man didn’t return his feelings. He fetched two plastic cups from the bathroom and handed them to Zane to mix the drinks, trying not to sigh when their hands fleetingly brushed against each other.

‘I bet you’re used to nicer places than this, huh?’

‘Well,’ Mohinder stammered, struggling to phrase his response as diplomatically as possible. ‘I don’t usually travel to such… rustic places.’

‘Rustic?’ Zane chuckled, shimmying out of his coat. ‘You mean complete dumps?’

‘I suppose…’ Mohinder demurred. Privately he agreed with Zane, but he didn’t want to sound stuck up.

‘I bet you’ve travelled everywhere, haven’t you? Looking for people like me, special people?’

Mohinder smiled at the edge of pride in Zane’s voice when he spoke of ‘special people’. There was just a hint of bragging in his tone, as if he were a member of an exclusive club that Mohinder had no chance of gaining admission to. In a way, Mohinder thought, it was a fairly accurate assessment of the situation.

‘I’ve travelled a fair bit, I suppose. Mainly for research, conferences and the like. To be honest you’re the first person I’ve really gone looking for.’

‘And look where it’s gotten you,’ Zane replied with a mischievous smirk. ‘Middle of nowhere, Montana. I bet you’d trade it all in for a cushy conference hotel right about now.’

‘Not really,’ he replied honestly. ‘Finding you is worth a thousand conferences. You really are special Zane.’

There was an awkward pause and Mohinder blushed, hoping against hope that his earnest tone hadn’t clued the other man into his deeper interest or made him uncomfortable. But when he looked up, Zane was staring off to the side, with a small, half-smile on his face, looking truly pleased at Mohinder’s words. He met Mohinder’s eyes and they stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat, handing Mohinder one of the drinks he had concocted.

‘But what about you?’ He asked, taking a sip and grimacing at the taste of the cheap liquor, barely concealed by the sickly sweetness of the soda. ‘I mean, you must tour a lot, with your band.’

‘Oh…’ He shrugged self deprecatingly, pulling at the hair at the back of his head as he moved restlessly about the room. He seemed unwilling to sit on the bed beside Mohinder and other than leaning against the wall, there weren’t many options. ‘Well, the band just kind of tours locally, y’know? I guess we’re not that great.’ Another shrug and a chuckle, and Mohinder knew not to press the subject.

He’d suspected Zane’s band might be less than successful when he’d so easily been able to drop everything to accompany Mohinder. He didn’t think Zane had even bothered to call anyone to let them know he’d be away for a few days. Or perhaps a few weeks. Mohinder felt the pressing emptiness in his chest begin to return at the thought that Zane might grow bored of their journey. The novelty was sure to wear off soon and Mohinder knew first hand how demoralising the constant rejection, scorn and pure disbelief they would encounter could be.

‘God, it’s cold in here!’ Zane suddenly said, rubbing his arms and downing the rest of his drink. ‘Did you turn the thermostat up?’

‘It’s broken, I think. I couldn’t get it to move at all.’

‘Did you jiggle it?’

‘Jiggle it?’

Zane gave an exaggerated sigh and began to fiddle with the stubborn controls. ‘Look here.’ He beckoned for Mohinder to come closer, and gulping down the rest of his drink, willing the tremble of desire to leave his body, he complied. ‘See you just…’ Mohinder watched over his shoulder, as Zane’s nimble fingers held the controls in just the right way to shift the dial. ‘Like that!’ The pipes began to rumble as the heating kicked in.

Zane turned around with a triumphant smile. ‘What would you have done if I wasn’t here?’

Mohinder hadn’t stepped back and they were less than an inch apart. He could smell the sweet liquor on Zane’s breath and feel the heat of his body.

‘I don’t know,’ he whispered.

Just as Mohinder was about to turn away, to fumble for more small talk or suggest they test Zane’s powers again, Zane reached up and brushed a stray curl behind his ear. He closed his eyes and before Mohinder could really believe that this was happening, they were kissing. Zane’s lips were full, soft and damp as they moved against his own. It was better than anything Mohinder had allowed himself to fantasise about. He stroked Zane’s cheek, smiling into the kiss as his eyes drifted open, staring into Mohinder’s own with wide, dark pupils. Zane’s stubble was rough beneath his palm and it made Mohinder groan. He stepped forward, pressing their chests together and feeling Zane whimper into his mouth.

They broke apart, panting. Zane sucked on his bottom lip, as if unwilling to fully pull away. He dropped quick, light butterfly kisses to the corners of Mohinder’s mouth, stroking his arms and caressing his back.

‘I’ve been wanting to do that all day,’ he confessed. His voice was husky with want and Mohinder’s own throat felt dry from his answering arousal. All he could do was moan in reply.


End file.
